effrenus
by xzmy
Summary: A lone survivor of Hammer awakes to a desolate, barren wasteland. He is alone. But then a yellow eyed man, wrapped in foreign armour finds him. The survivor is abandoned in the middle of a wild & insane struggle. He will have to adopt insanity to survive. For perhaps the last time. Set after ME3. Possible spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

First story for an age! First story on Mass Effect, too. Characters aren't from the ME Universe, but factions, weapons, vehicles etc are.  
Hopefully will improve as it goes on and as I get back into things & hopefully you enjoy reading it!  
Set after the events of Mass Effect 3, so spoiler warnings ahoy. Probably.  
Enjoy :) - xzmy

_effrenus._

Thunder cracked around his limp body. He did not have the strength to open his eyes and gaze up at the violent sky. Lightning shot out through the clouds, temporarily illuminating what was now an urban wasteland. The sudden surge of light behind closed eyes caused him to flinch. His fists clenched. His eyes clinched. His mind began working, desperately trying to bring about a fresh injection of adrenalin. His eyes gradually cracked open. It was dark, but it still stung his eyes. His teeth gritted against one another. _Come on you bastard. _He was trying to force his eyelids to open wider, willing with every muscle in his body. Though the view would be the same for miles. Destruction. Chaos. Death. It was not a sight that one would wish to gaze upon after having been unconscious. It did not bring a happy turn of events, nor would it provide an inspiring moment for reflection.

Reflection. His eyes opened fully. His knuckles turned white. He could only see the sky. A lone tear trickled down the side of his face. Smoke. Darkness. Burnt air. The smoke stung his eyes, prompting the tear. Another tear fell from his eye. This was not a reaction to the smoke. This was a reaction to the silence. That was something that he had not left behind with consciousness. That was new. It was something he feared. It pierced him more than the screams of all his-he slammed his eyes shut. More tears were squeezed out between his eyelids. Thunder sounded again, complete with a flash of lightning. In the time his eyes were open, he had adjusted to the dimness of his environment. His eyes were comfortable. His mind was not.

He heard some whirring. It was downwards from his ear. _My arm. _He cursed, his eyes rolling down to the bottom of their sockets. _Omni-tool_. It had not been audible before. _Shit. _It must be broken. There was no way he could call for aid now. He let out a sigh, half surprised that he could manage it. _Need to sit up. _The remaining strength from just getting his eyes open was moving to his exhausted torso. His fists turned to open palms and began pressing against the floor. It was uneven ground, little rocks and debris scattering the land. He felt a few small jagged objects under his palms. It caused him some minute discomfort. A small distraction, but enough to keep his arms locked in place. _Do it. _He exhaled forcibly as he pushed himself up. He was sat upright, atleast. He slouched over as a case of light headedness swept through his brain. His gaze was on the floor. The earth had been torn apart. Potholes dominated the landscape. Chunks of mud were scattered around. That was just in his current eyeline.

He cranked his neck upwards. An intense light stung his eyes. He blinked rapidly, trying to force his eyes to adjust to the light. It seemed mechanical, almost. A dark blue flickered at the centre. It was engulfed by orange blades that pierced the air. His eyes widened. _A Kodiak! _It's carcass was already undergoing a cremation. There was endless shadow to his right. His head turned slowly to the left, his eyes glued to the Kodiak. His eyes caught up with him. They widened almost immediately. His sense of sight becoming so engaged kick-started the rest. The smell struck him. The stench of death. Soldiers' crackling skin, succumbed to a fiery grip, popped and burned. His tears returned quickly. Those were his fellow soldiers. There were clumps of bodies dotted everywhere. Some together. Some alone. Some neatly piled up in bloody mounds. It was like they were castles on a moat of blood.

The sights rekindled his memories. He squinted, slowly wiping tears off his cheeks with a lazy arm. He felt his strength gradually returning. He wanted to walk, look amongst the corpses. He wanted to identify his friends. He followed them in the charge, covered them from Husks and Marauders. He shared laughs with them prior to their airlift. Spirits remained high prior to the moment their Kodiak doors opened. But when they touched the scorched earth-he winced, recounting that memory. The bodies nearest to him couldn't be identified. No tags in plain view, faces torn apart, corpses charred. He kept noting the bodies. A feeling of dark pride came over him, seeing the bodies of Cannibals, Scions, Husks and Marauders. They weren't the main populace of the area, however. Those soldiers drafted in by the Alliance, mainly by Admiral Hackett and Commander Shepard, paid the ultimate price.

His eyes wandered down the slope he sat on, until they met the Conduit. It's light source had vanished, drained perhaps. The sole purpose of Hammer was to get someone into that beam and..._no, don't be stupid. _The beam had gone, a once intense light was now matched by intense hope in his heart. Did someone make it? The Reaper guarding the Conduit was nowhere to be seen. Was it destroyed, defeated? He thought realistically. Or did it leave, basking in it's glory? He focused in on his hearing. There were no low hums, no low rumblings. The Reapers, for now, had left the Conduit. That didn't call out to him as 'strange', but the lack of gunfire rattling in a destroyed London did. Had the invasion finished? Was it finally over?

He could stomach the sights around him and he had spent enough times on the ground to feel confident with standing. His body ached, of course, but it was awake now. He rocked forward, so he was on his hands and knees. His hands were covered in ash and fell victim to grazes from rocks and broken concrete. He pushed himself up, muscles overworking just to stand. It felt like his leg muscles were about to go pop. He let out a grunt as he stood, taking a few deep breaths. _Okay, steady now. _There was no light headedness as he anticipated. He let out another breath, this time a sigh of relief. He wasn't about to pass out with no one around. He patted his holster, feeling slightly better knowing his Tempest remained there. His Avenger wasn't on his hand, nor on his back, so he had no idea where that was. He looked down around him, briefly searching for it. While looking, he saw his thermal clips still attached to his utility belt. He was almost disappointed at the sight. Clearly he hadn't killed enough of the Reaper ground forces. _Useless bastard. _He berated himself momentarily.

The wind picked up. A breeze carried itself down the slope and across his face, causing a smile to form on his face. It was cool and certainly was a nice feeling as the breeze kissed his face. Dust kicked up off the ground. He pre-emptively turned his face to the side, squinting his eyes to keep out the dust. The wind became...louder. He frowned, but still kept his head turned. It howled, it swirled. He glanced quickly at the dust, noting that it was forming a circular ring. The dust was being forced outwards, particles thrown into the air, never to be seen again. He heard a high pitched wail above him. It faded out, then faded in again. He looked at it with a squint-his eyes widened. A blue and white Corvette. _They've fucking remembered me! They're gonna save me! _Excitement filled him. Joy overwhelmed him. He hobbled backwards, making space for the landing. The Corvette touched the earth, its engines simmering out to silence. He waited eagerly for the door to fly open. He stepped forward a few paces, reaching out a hand. The door eased open, letting out a gasp of air. Men in blue and white armour smiled at him.

"Gotta live one." hissed one of them. Two men hopped off the Corvette, standing either side of him. He looked at them, confused,

"Those...those aren't Alliance uniforms." This prompted laughter from the pack. His eyes were drawn to one in the middle. He had a presence. His eyes were yellow. His hair was dark brown. He stepped to the edge of the Corvette and the laughter died. The man jumped to the ground, strolling over to him. The man studied him, his eyes running down his body and back up again.

"Alliance, huh?" The man asked quietly, his eyes sharp and locked on the soldier. The soldier nodded, gesturing to the engraved Alliance symbol on his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, "No, no. I don't want you to talk. Weapon, you incompetent twats." The man to the soldier's right snatched the Tempest out of his holster and offered it to the yellow eyed man. He took the Tempest, rotating his wrist to get a better look at it. "Good condition. Loaded, too." He threw it into the Corvette, the gun being caught by two pairs of hands. "Now, you're one of the few survivors we've found and we've circled the area a few times. Were you hiding, coward?" The yellow eyed man taunted him, pointing at the soldier's belt. "All those thermal clips unused. Can't of killed many," he looked to his right down the slope. He scoffed, "Clearly saved even less. Get him on board."

He felt a crack to his jaw. He was dragged down into blackness, a soaring pain drifting away with his consciousness. He felt weightless as he was carried into the Corvette.

The yellow eyed man surveyed the scene, humming quietly. The group of mercenaries looked at their leader, remaining silent. They shuffled in their places, occupying themselves with weapon checks, their new prisoner and dusting themselves off. He nodded once, turning back to the Corvette. "Fire her up, pilot." There was a distant affirmative as the yellow eyed man jumped back on board, holding onto a bar above his head. The door firmly shut, the Corvette's engines growling with content. The ship raised off the ground, its engines bellowing as it sped away into the night sky.


	2. Chapter 2

_effrenus. chapter 2._

A ringing echoed in his ears, as if rifle fire erupted beside him. His jaw ached, unable to open his mouth fully. Low hums sounded nearby. He was propped up against a cold wall, feeling the metal against his back. That was odd. He looked down at his body. His armour had gone, replaced by a white vest and black cargo trousers. This wasn't war torn London, either. Iron barred door stared back at him. _A cell! _He sat up straight, alarmed. At the back of the cell, a wireframe with a holey blanket draped over it, disguised itself as a bed. There was a sink to the right of the door, although there was a damp patch dripping down from the exposed pipe. And that was it. His room. He placed hands on the wall behind him, helping himself up. He leant against it, trying to form some composure. The low humming picked up again. He caught a glimpse of a face peeking at him between the bars of his door. The ringing in his ears faded out. Hums became words, words formulated by a voice,

"Ah, you're up-" said a face at the door, "He's up, look." Another face popped around the door. His mouth opened in laughter. "Poor bastards gonna have it bad." Both of them laughed before snapping silent, their heads jerking back behind the wall. His cell door opened after some electronic beeping and the yellow eyed man swooped in. The man gestured to the cells bed,

"I left your tags for you," Cornelius said, remaining in the doorway as if allowing Zachary to get the tags, "Read up on your background, if you don't mind." Cornelius smugly grinned at him, "Signed up for the Alliance at twenty nine and your first job was London. You weren't meant to be a part of this...'Hammer', but due to insufficient numbers and a mix of desperation and hope, on you went. The rest is history." Cornelius retained his grin, gesturing to the tags again, "Please, Zachary, have some honour and respect for your history." Zachary stepped forward from the wall, gingerly walking over to his bed, eyes fixed on Cornelius. He quickly took the tags from the bed, immediately putting them around his neck. Zachary looked at Cornelius, a questioning look in his eye.

"Why am I here?" Zachary asked. Cornelius waltzed in, his position in the doorway replaced by a soldier in blue and white armour. It was different to Cornelius's, whose armour was black and white. It shone in the light that hung in the centre of the ceiling. Zachary watched Cornelius, before the man stopped under the light. Zachary stepped back, adopting a defensive stance. Cornelius's face darkened under the light. But his yellow irises were still bold.

"You're here because...well, there's more than one reason," Cornelius explained, clasping his hands behind his back, chin raised slightly, "I've wanted an Alliance soldier to join our utopia for sometime. You're interesting characters. Tough exterior, professional interior, blah de blah." Cornelius set aside a moment for a laugh, "But you lack the brutality of any mercenary group. You could arm our guys like your Alliance soldiers, give them the same vehicles-Hell, same training if you wanted. And we'd run you into the ground and we'd annihilate you all." A smirk tickled at his lips as he sat himself on the floor, crossing his legs. Zachary looked at the guard by the door. There was a familiar weapon in his hand.. _My Tempest. _Cornelius caught Zachary looking beyond him and half turned to see what was so fascinating. "Ah!" He jumped up, beckoning the other man over. Cornelius took the Tempest out of his hand and threw it over to Zachary who snatched at it as it passed through the air. He caught it and began looking it over.

"Why did you take this off of me and keep it, to only give it back to me?" Zachary said, standing up now. Cornelius shrugged, smiling slightly,

"Heat of the moment. You just woke up and a bunch of funnily dressed men appeared in front of you," he began, pointing to Zachary, "Far as I'm concerned most Alliance soldiers don't hold _us_ in high regard, or any other mercenary bastards. You may have shot us in a blaze of presumptive and, quite frankly rude, glory." Zachary frowned, shaking his head slowly.

"We don't have problems with mercenaries unless they engage first, endanger the lives of those under Alliance jurisdiction or break the laws of an Alliance planet." Zachary explained, holding his Tempest, finger fiddling with the trigger. Cornelius noted that, flicking his eyes back to Zachary.

"Of course." He lost interest in the subject fairly quickly. He dismissed it with a wave of his hand, "There's no clip in that, by the way, Zachary. Anyway, it's about time you came out. Welcome, friend.." Cornelius smiled, walking back out of the cell. The guard handed an Avenger to Cornelius, before the latter disappeared to the right of the door. Zachary let out a breath, one he'd unknowingly held as Cornelius left. _So that's Cornelius...now where the Hell am I? _He tried to keep calm as he walked towards the doorway of his cell. He peered out, looking both ways. He saw the two guards walking down the left, laughing and talking away to each other. He saw a continuing row of cells. Voices came from a few, pleading for their release. Zachary asked himself why Blue Suns were kidnapping Alliance soldiers, or rather, why they only kidnapped one. Him. He hadn't heard of Blue Suns capturing Alliance soldiers before today. He walked to the right, following where Cornelius went. The walls were beige, with flakes of dry paint on the floor, revealing the original colour scheme to be a light grey. This cell block had multiple owners. He continued down the corridor, noticing a set of three steps leading upwards. He walked up them, a large steel door rested ajar. Zachary pushed it opened and a wave of sudden sound hit him.

He recognised the place immediately. The bleakness of the buildings, succumbing to the planets infectious nature. A few figures walked past him, casting a judgemental look. _Hostile until given reason to be otherwise. _There was only one place like this. Omega. Zachary had come here several times, mainly to visit friends who decided that joining the Alliance wasn't the best idea. These friends were the ones who had been involved in affairs concerning, what the Alliance would label as 'contraband' and 'illegal substances'. He walked forward a few paces and looked both ways, trying to get some bearing of which area he stood in. To his right seemed to be a walk way, which disappeared around a corner. Exhaust fumes and gases clouded the safety lights on the walkway. To his left, he saw the tops of many tent like structures. Zachary racked his mind for a similar sight, before it clicked. _It must be the marketplace! _He almost jogged over there, keen to remind himself of what civilians looked like. The only people he'd ran into so far, knocked him out and locked him up. Zachary made his way towards the marketplace.

Some vendors bellowed, trying to entice customers in with their exotic products and generous discounts. Others spoke quieter, before shouting in outrage over a customer's haggling. Zachary continued into the marketplace, looking at the products on offer. Of course he had no money and his appearance didn't scream 'loaded', but vendors called to him offering 'incredible weaponry' and 'to die for armour'. He chuckled, shaking his head as he continued through. At the other end of the marketplace stood three men, clad in Blue Suns armour. They were all human and on their shoulder was a symbol, in yellow. He was too far away to make out what it was and he failed to notice it earlier when Cornelius was in the cell. Zachary walked slower, towards the mercenaries. He wanted to make out what that symbol was. He scratched the top of his right arm, before it flared with pain. He looked at his arm, squinting his eyes in disbelief. There was a yellow tattoo there. A barb wire circle with an eagle in the middle. He could make out there was something in the eagle's mouth. A man's head, his hair trapped in the beak of the bird.

These mercenaries can't have been traditional Blue Suns. He knew that the blue and white armour was trademark among the Blue Suns, across all ranks. You couldn't separate a Centurion from a new recruit. But here they had the yellow symbol. That wasn't normal. He recalled that he hadn't seen an alien soldier with these Blue Suns. Zachary hadn't seen any on the Corvette, the two guards weren't alien and Cornelius certainly wasn't either. _Seems their policy and recruitment excludes aliens. The Blue Suns had alien mercenaries, why's it different here? _He looked around the marketplace. Aliens populated buyers ad sellers, just not the mercenaries. For these Blue Suns to be out in public, especially by a marketplace, signified they were the dominate mercenary group in this district. So Zachary thought, anyway. The three Blue Suns mercenaries he took his eyes off were now at a stall beside him. Two mercenaries stood in front of the vendor, while one snuck around the back.

"How did you acquire these weapons?" The first mercenary asked the vendor, picking up a Shuriken and examining it. He pointed to a marking on the weapon, handing it over to his accomplice.

"T-They did the rounds, s-sir. Friends, strangers and then into my hands." The third mercenary positioned himself behind the vendor, a menacing expression dominating his features.

"Did you acquire them from those unclean Eclipse fuck heads?" The second mercenary growled, throwing the weapon to the ground. The smack of metal against concrete caused the seemingly endless shouting to die down. Whispers passed through the people, now more interested in this scene than their own endeavours. The vendor rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the two mercenaries stood in front of him.

"I just got them h-handed to me from a friend of a friend-I don't know where they came from!" The vendor showed panic and Zachary pleaded with himself to step in. But three fully armoured and armed mercenaries dissuaded him. He had the training in hand-to-hand and could get the jump on one. But Zachary would be finished off quickly. The first mercenary nodded to the one behind the vendor. The mercenary put his forearm around the vendor's neck, yanking him down to the ground. The vendor tried to shout, but the arm choked him into silence. The other two jumped over the stall's front, standing around the vendor.

"You Eclipse supporting fuck!" The third mercenary stomped on the vendors face, a dull crack filled the air. He stomped again, a small squelch came.

"Ple-please help me! Help me!" The vendor screeched as blood filled his mouth. The other two mercenaries began to punch the vendor in the stomach. The vendor coughed violently as he curled into a ball, covering his head with his arms. The mercenaries worked away still. Some of the civilians couldn't take the sight, or the noise of facial bones breaking and the vendor spitting out his own blood. The attack halted. The mercenaries glared at the vendor. The glares morphed into looks of admiration. They liked what they did. They thought they did a good job. One mercenary wiped the blood on his hand down his leg. The first mercenary pushed over the front of the stall, the weapons with their insignias clattering against the floor, skidding across the ground. Zachary stepped back as the mercenaries advanced forward, looking out to the marketplace.

"Eclipse have no influence here." This mercenary was notably taller than the others, atleast 6'5". He stood more confidently, bolstered by the blood stain on his leg. "Anyone who is seen supporting them, endorsing them or even excusing them, will suffer punishment." He gestured to the vendor, whose body locked into a protective ball. "This stain was discovered selling weapons in order to fund a potential Eclipse uprising in our district. Make no mistake, this district is _ours._" He waved the mercenaries away, who moved beyond the weapons that remained on the floor. He glanced at Zachary. The look unnerved him, causing him to take a step back. The mercenary prodded his tattoo. "We got another one, didn't we?" He said quietly, eyes on the tattoo. "Beheaded...eagle," the mercenary added words to the tattoo. "You're a captive, eh?" The man didn't allow for a response, but nodded before turning to the crowd, "Free weapons, provided by Eclipse! Come and get 'em!" The three mercenaries marched away. Zachary watched them as they left the scene. The crowd ran over to the weapons, chucking ones they didn't like away and picking up a new one. It became a ruckus, a free for all. _They don't even have ammo in. _Some of the crowd tried to wipe away the insignia that were on all the weapons. Within a minute, every weapon had gone, carried away by one of Omega's residents.

The vendor coughed, then retched. Zachary walked over to him, kneeling beside him,

"Sir? Are you okay?" he asked quietly. The answer was obvious. Blood flowed from the bridge of his nose, his lips had already swollen. He had cuts around his eyes and they swelled where the bones had been broken. The vendor slowly revealed opened his eyes and looked at Zachary. Zachary's heart sank. The look in the vendor's eye was not one of pain, but fear. He kept his hands by his face, preparing for another onslaught. "I'm Alliance, sir. I want to help you, not hurt," Zachary said reassuringly. The vendor's hands lowered slightly. His eyes were scared and distrusting. But the mention of 'Alliance' seemed to stir the vendor's curiosity.

"Can...if you're Alliance, could you get those guys, please?" he begged, quickly clutching onto Zachary's arm. The Alliance soldier shuffled back slightly, taken aback by the action. He opened his mouth to speak, to tell the vendor he couldn't do a thing. He felt hopeless as he looked at this man, blood now drying on his face. His nose broken, his eye sockets were broken too. The vendor let go of Zachary, sensing he wouldn't be able to help. "Okay," He sighed, lowering his head to the floor and staring up.

"An Eclipse supporter, eh?" A voice came from a man sat on the stall opposite. "You fucking dumb idiot." _Cornelius. _The Blue Suns man walked over slowly. Zachary watched the vendor still, whose eyes widened and fists clenched in front of his face. True fear. Cornelius acknowledged him with a nod, before looking at the vendor. "A little birdy tells me you've been a naughty boy." He stood over the vendor, occasionally glancing at Zachary. He wasn't wearing his black and white armour. He looked like any old civilian. Cornelius was wearing a short sleeved grey top, with the sleeves rolled up to the end of his shoulders. He donned the same black cargo trousers as Zachary.

"Please, mister, I wasn't aware! They were o-offloaded to me by a friend of a friend, how was I to kn-" Cornelius poked him with his foot and the vendor fell into an anxious silence. The yellow eyed man sighed, shaking his head. He tutted three times.

"You didn't notice a slice of the money you made, vanished from your account every three days? You didn't notice those mysterious, dodgy and quite frankly _suspicious_ alien freaks, snooping around?" Cornelius pulled a face of exaggerated hurt. "I'm shocked it's you, Simon. Honestly I thought it'd be one of those hideous Batarians. They're poor examples for the rest of us outstanding folk. I don't trust anything that's got more eyes than me," He laughed. The vendor forced himself to smile, trying to get back into Cornelius's good books. Zachary didn't sure who to watch. Cornelius's laugh faded to an amused look on his face, before shaking his head with disbelief. "Anyway, this is our land and you know it, don't you, Simon?" The vendor quickly nodded, which Cornelius mirrored. "Of course you do Simon, of course you do." He smiled, taking a step back. In one fluid motion, Cornelius took out his Phalanx from it's holster, aimed it at Simon and pulled the trigger. The shot echoed around the marketplace. Those remaining after the first attack scampered away, in fear of their own lives. Zachary jumped, throwing himself back. His jaw dropped. Cornelius just shot this man dead. Cornelius flashed a grin at Zachary, before putting his pistol back in his holster. Zachary stood stunned. Cornelius's yellow eyes disappeared behind eyelids as he placed his index against his lips. "Don't say anything," his eyes reappeared, "I would have crucified him, if I had my way." It almost sounded like a threat. Cornelius observed Zachary, who quickly averted his eyes to the body. "Do you know the Kima District, Zachary?" He asked, putting his hands in his pockets. Zachary didn't register the question at first. The shot rung in his ears and the sight...that was the thing. He became used to seeing fellow soldiers die. To see an Alliance uniform splashed with blood was common to him. But a civilian casualty...that was different.

"Yeah, its where Archangel was holding up," Zachary mumbled, now looking at Cornelius.

"Ah, good. I want to see you there. We've secured Archangel's little base for our own, tunnels, walkways, all ours now," he explained, beginning to walk in the direction the three mercenaries went in, "We're the angels of the place now," He chuckled, turning to face Zachary. Zachary hid clenched fists in his pockets. "I'll see you there, when you've recovered from these traumatic and sorry events." Cornelius's voice was mockingly sincere. _You fucking bastard. _He caught a glimpse of Cornelius's tattoo, with identical placement to his.

"Wait!" Zachary called after Cornelius, who spun on his heels,

"Yes m'boy?" Zachary walked after Cornelius, leaving a good amount of space between them before stopping,

"Who are you? You wear the armour of Blue Suns mercs, right? Yet the tattoo you bare-the one I bare, what does it signify? You're an independent strain." He had to know this. He hadn't heard of a Blue Suns split since the coveted Zaeed Massani split from Vido Santiago. That worked out for Massani though, joining Commander Shepard's team and, allegedly, playing a part in killing Santiago. Cornelius pondered the question for a moment, scratching at his chin.

"Well, you're correct. We're not with them. Our armour is the same, granted, but that's it." It was an unpredicted stoney reply, seeing that Cornelius had been quite lively and open previously. He gestured to Zachary's tattoo, "Excluding the poor bastard's head-oh, you're missing the name, too." Cornelius turned to show his tattoo, beckoning Zachary closer. He complied, walking until he was a metre away from Cornelius. There was no head hanging from the eagle's mouth and there was the addition of text underneath the bottom of the circle. It read '_JUSTI SUNT AQUILAE'_. Zachary blinked at it for a few seconds, which prompted a sigh from Cornelius. "You don't understand Latin? Christ, why does no one round here understand the shitty thing?" He sighed again, pinching his nose quickly. "_The Righteous Eagles_, my dear Zachary. That's what it means-well, literally it means '_Just Eagles_', but..." Cornelius smiled, holding his hands up, "Whatever. It's not important. I will you see at Archangel's in ten minutes." He gave him two thumbs up before scampering away to his destination. Zachary watched him go, before looking back to the body.

A large hole formed where Simon's nose used to be. The amount of heat in the projectile fired cauterised the wound immediately and prevented continual bleeding. Though blood had splattered in a perfect circle around Simon's head. It stained the concrete. White fragments of skull were dotted around the blood circle. Brain matter soaked up the blood. But it didn't strike Zachary as if someone would care about the murder. Nor did Zachary believe someone would miss Simon. No one would check to see where he was, no one would ask tomorrow what happened to him. Everyone saw the attack, fewer saw his death. But he was the only one to ask if he was okay and the only one to show any sympathy for him. _The Righteous Eagles...what a load of shit. _There was nothing 'just' about this act. There hadn't been a trial, a show of evidence, a warrant. This district clearly depended on street smarts and a necessary degree of selfishness. Simon took his punishment without trying to fight back. Zachary looked at the vendor's waist. _He had a fucking gun. _He had a chance and he didn't take it. Zachary ran a hand through his dark blond hair. He couldn't stomach the sight anymore. He tore himself away. He went to join Cornelius in the Kima District. _What have you got planned for me, Cornelius?_


End file.
